Changes 1a: Legion of Doom
by Side Quest Publications
Summary: Both prequel and sequel to Flash Sideways. Prequel takes place in 2002 and has the Legion of Doom recruiting a young Len. In the sequel a Flashpoint-resurrected Len remembers being part of the Legends and must cope with the fact that the Legends don't remember HIM. Takes place partway through Time May Change Me. OOC is Serious Business.
1. Recruiting Young Len

**In which I give Len yet another reason to hate me as an author...  
*Ahem***

 **In which the Legion of Doom recruits a young Leonard Snart, long before the particle accelerator explosion, the metahumans, the time travel, etc.  
I wanted to get my version uploaded before he actually shows up again on Legends and we find out for certain what version of Captain Cold is working for the Legion... just because I was curious how any of my totally random theories might compare to canon.  
**

 **Told from Malcolm Merlyn's perspective (entirely by accident!)**

 **OOC Serious Business.  
This is a random fic; this means it is only meant to explore only a very small element of what may be a much larger story elsewhere, or it has nothing to do with anything else... or both. Certain details will be explained in other fics where relevant.**

 **All characters copyright to DC, CW, etc.**

 **Edit: whoops! One reviewer kindly pointed out that I had named Malcolm "Al Sahim" when that was actually Ollie's League name; the fic has since been corrected. Thank you for the correction, SeaSpectre160. :)  
**

 **Some slight modifications made to take canon into account. Case in point, Eobard Thawne being the supposed "leader" of the Legion (original version portrayed Darkh as the leader, though as far as his "ownership" of Len, he still is in charge), as well as the fact that the season's version of Darkh is from before he got the idol... and in particular, trying to give a better sense of how the Legion's time travel affects Darkh's control over Len (basically Len is stuck on the slow path as per details in chapter two, while the Legion still jumps around in time as per show's canon and drops in occasionally so Darkh can reinforce the magic controlling Len).**

* * *

 _Undisclosed location, Circa December, 2002_

The three men snuck down the darkened halls, watching, wary for anyone—or anything—prepared to jump out at them. None of them spoke, none willing to make their presence known to whatever called this place a home.

Until Malcolm Merlyn, the assassin Al Sa-her, felt something brush against him. He yelped and immediately loosed an arrow at his attacker.

Eobard Thawne echoed that yelp and dodged away from the arrow aimed at him, allowing it to speed right at the third member of their group.

Damien Darkh held up a single hand, and the arrow behind him stopped mid-flight, a mere breath away from striking him in the back.

Malcolm shook when he realized he'd just attacked his own team. " _Damn_ it, Thawne! Either quit vibrating or get the hell off me!" He shook off the speedster who was trying to cling to his arm again, though in this place, he'd just as soon be the one clinging to the others.

"I can't _help_ it," Eobard whined. "This place gives me the creeps!"

Malcolm nodded his agreement. "I always thought it was an urban legend," he admitted. "Even in my worst nightmares, even after Nanda Parbat, I could never imagine..." He shuddered again. "What are we even doing here, Darkh?"

"We are here to collect something that belongs to me," Damien replied.

"His sanity?" Eobard muttered.

"You won't find _that_ in this place," Malcolm replied.

"I don't think you could find it _any_ place," Eobard said.

Malcolm shrugged.

"Cute," Damien said. "But no. My property was stolen from me twenty years ago, and this is my best chance to get it back."

"So why don't I just go back twenty years and collect your property _then_?" Eobard asked. "For all we know, I might be the one who stole it from you; sure beats wandering around here..."

But Damien shook his head. "I'm afraid that wouldn't be a good idea," he said. "The League was responsible for this theft, you see, and I've learned that this property is particularly sensitive to changes in the timeline."

Malcolm gave Eobard a puzzled look, but the time-traveling speedster was just as clueless. "So what _are_ we looking for?" the assassin finally asked.

"Not what," Damien corrected. " _Who_." He ignored the panicked looks the other two gave him. "Ah, here we are," he said, finally stopping in front of a locked door. "Gentleman, if you would give me a moment..." He closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again. "Now nobody will know we're here."

"I thought you did that already," Eobard muttered.

Malcolm rolled his eyes. For a time traveler, the so-called leader of their group could be clueless about the people he'd recruited. Of _course_ Damien wouldn't waste his magic on something that complicated if he didn't need to, not when he had yet to acquire the idol that strengthened him.

"No, before I made it so that nobody would _notice_ us," Damien corrected. "Effectively making us invisible is more difficult, which is why I had to wait until now to do so. So if you gentleman would please keep your mouths shut so I can _keep_ us invisible...? Thank you."

The door clicked open, and Damien entered. Malcolm and Eobard were as afraid as ever, but they both decided that they'd rather be close to the relative protection of Damien's magic than avoid whatever was on the other side of that door, and they quickly followed. The door clicked shut behind them.

What they found inside was... anticlimactic, to say the least. There was a man there, chained to a sad excuse for a bed, muzzled and wearing cuffs that vaguely resembled boxing mitts, but the man was so still he could almost have passed for a corpse. Malcolm resisted the urge to check him for a pulse, unwilling to risk breaking Damien's magic with so small an interaction. Only the rise and fall of the man's chest and the occasional blink of his eyes proved he lived, but there was no life in those eyes.

Malcolm's eyes followed a single tube from one of the cuffs to what was unmistakably an IV drip, and he understood. "He's being drugged," he said. "Very heavily sedated. He wouldn't notice us even _without_ your magic."

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" Damien asked. "But Mr. Leonard Snart here has an eidetic memory. Even if he is not now aware of our presence he would remember us later, and I would prefer to maintain some control over the situation."

Malcolm nodded, but he couldn't pretend to understand. Damien had never been one for sharing secrets, though to be fair, none of them were. He would just have to hope that whatever Damien had planned wouldn't end poorly for him... or for this Leonard if the sudden greed in Eobard's eyes meant anything.

Voices approached from outside the room, and Damien gestured for the other two to back away. Three people, nurses by their uniforms, entered the room and eyed Leonard warily before approaching him. The two men loosened a single restraint, giving them enough slack to roll the drugged man onto his side. The woman approached with a syringe, and bent down to inject the contents directly into Leonard's spine.

Leonard sprang into action before the needle could even brush his skin. He used what little slack he could find in his restraints, pulling his head one way and then snapping back to connect with one of his captors in the span of less than a second. He didn't have enough room to do any real damage, but the syringe went flying and landed somewhere near the hidden trio.

" _Shit_!" the woman growled, as she and the other two nurses struggled with him. "That last dose should have put him into a coma for weeks; _nobody_ develops a resistance that quickly!"

" _He_ does," one of the men replied. "Why do you think the boss is so—damn it!—so interested in him?"

Malcolm watched, not Leonard's thrashing or the nurses' efforts to contain him, but the man's _eyes_. There was no madness in those eyes, none of the wildness the assassin might expect in someone prone to such random outbursts.

Instead there was terror... and despair. That lifeless shell had been an act; Leonard was clearly fully aware of his surroundings and was trying desperately to protect himself from whatever torture these people might inflict on him—and if the rumors of this place were true, "torture" it probably was no matter how they tried to dress it up.

But he had just as clearly given up hope long ago of doing any such thing. He was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it. He continued to fight out of habit, not to _stop_ that pain, but to delay it as long as he could.

Which, as it happened, was not very long at all. It might have been whatever he was drugged with, it might have been his injuries, it might have been the nurses piling on top of him and holding him down.

Or it might have been any combination of the three. In less than a minute the nurses had driven Leonard back down to the bed, and all he'd accomplished was to hurt himself. Malcolm could see several places where the man was bleeding, one from where the IV had pulled out of his arm, and far too many from where his thrashing had opened up sores he'd developed under the pressure of the restraints.

Leonard collapsed, his resistance gone, and he wept.

Malcolm looked away quickly before he could betray his thoughts. His hood kept the speedster from seeing his expression, but who knew how far Damien's magic went? He didn't trust Damien—or Eobard, either—not to use it against him if they suspected he felt any sympathy for the young man.

"Get the syringe," the woman snapped at the younger of the other two nurses.

"But..." the man spluttered. "But if I move..."

"He's not going to try anything again so soon," the woman replied. " _Get_ it!"

The man nodded. He released his grip on Leonard's head, took two hesitant steps away, and when he saw that Leonard was still not moving, he rushed after the syringe.

Damien canceled the magic keeping him invisible and stepped on the syringe just as the nurse bent down to retrieve it.

"Uh..." the nurse said, staring up at the three figures who had appeared out of thin air.

Damien ignored him and focused on the other two nurses. "Sir," he said, "madam. I'm afraid Mr. Snart will no longer require your services."

The other two nurses barely gave the new arrivals a glance. "One of the freaks playing tricks again," the other man grumbled.

Damien frowned at the two of them. "I'm sorry, perhaps I didn't make myself very clear," he said. "I meant for you to _release him_." He waited only ten seconds longer; when the two still ignored him, he shook his head. "Mr. Merlyn, if you please..."

 _Twang! Thump._ The man fell off the bed, an arrow sprouting from his side. The woman finally twisted around to look at the intruders, just in time to see Malcolm loose another arrow. _Twang! Thump._ The second arrow struck her in the chest and flipped her off the bed as well.

Leonard didn't even react to their absence.

Damien finally spared a glance for the third nurse. "Go," he ordered. "Find your boss and tell him Damien Darkh wants to see him."

The nurse gave a jerky nod and scrambled to his feet to run out of the room.

"Would you prefer to kill him once he's delivered his message?" Damien asked Eobard.

The speedster shivered. "Nah, I think I'll stick around and watch the fireworks."

"You mean you don't want to go out there by yourself," Malcolm said.

"That, too." Eobard shivered. "Uh... Darkh? What are you doing to him?"

Damien was sitting on the bed and examining Leonard's restraints. "Hmm..." He scowled, and touched a single cuff; the cuff fell away, revealing the raw skin underneath. Damien touched another restraint, then another and another. Each one released at his touch, and Damien's scowl deepened at the sight of the infected sores.

The door opened, admitting a man with a face that looked like it had lost a fight with a meat grinder. His uniform marked him as a doctor.

Damien paused, his hand almost touching the muzzle. "Take care of him, I said," he said without even turning around to look at the doctor. "Prime condition, I said. _Restored_ , I said. I believe those were my _exact words_."

"Mr. D-Darkh," the doctor stammered. "I c-can explain."

Damien spun around to pin the doctor with a glare. "Does that look _restored_ to you?" he snarled. He held up one hand, freezing the doctor in place.

"The treatments you ord...urk!" the doctor gasped past the magic holding him still. "He's... he gets violent."

Malcolm rolled his eyes.

"We can't release him," the doctor continued. "Not even to treat him. We _can't_. If he gets loose, gets even a little slack, he just attacks us. I had to protect my employees."

"That's why you _sedate_ him, you idiot!" Damien snapped. "Why I have to waste my power to fix _your_ incompetence—"

"Sedatives don't work on him!" the doctor protested. "Not for long. He just shrugs them off like they're nothing. Look... Mr. Darkh, I'd been giving him curare." Malcolm tightened his grip on his bow at that statement. "It's been working, it's the only thing he seems to respond to, but just barely. It's only enough for quick treatments. The next day... we have to fight with him all over again. It happens every time."

Damien shook his head. "You should've told me about this from the beginning," he said. "Maybe then you would've had the chance to fix it. But now...? Now, you get a head start before I ask my speedster to kill you. In five..." He released the magic holding the doctor in place.

"Mr. Darkh, _please_!"

"Four."

"If you would let me explain—"

"Three."

"There's been a new development—"

"Two."

"Mick Rory was here—"

"O—What? Here? _When_?"

"A few days ago," the doctor said. "He showed up... right after you left. Had this huge group with him. I don't know who they were, but three of them could've passed for members of the Justice Society. Sixty years ago they could." He began giggling hysterically. "He looked different... _older_. But it was him. And he recognized me straight off."

"Do you know why he was here?" Damien asked. He glanced behind him at Leonard, still lying prone, before returning his glare to the doctor.

The doctor shook his head. "No idea, but it wasn't for my patient. Oh, Mr. Rory was pissed when he found out I was working for... working here. But none of them tried to do anything with him."

"Hmm..." Damien turned to look over his shoulder at Malcolm and Eobard. "What do you gentlemen think?"

"I think he's had more than five seconds," Malcolm replied.

Damien nodded. "Agreed. Mr. Thawne... would you mind doing it a bit slower this time? I'd like him to feel it."

The doctor's face fell, and he rushed for the door.

"I think I can manage that," Eobard said with a grin. He let the doctor set one foot into the hallway before plunging a hand into his back.

Malcolm looked away. He didn't want to know what the speedster was shredding to produce those screams.

"Now, where was I?" Damien said. "Ah, yes. Mr. Snart, if you would sit up for a moment please? I know you can move."

Leonard slowly pushed himself up off the bed, not even giving the loosened restraints a second glance. His eyes darted from one person to the next, lingered on the three corpses for a moment, then dropped to the floor without meeting anyone's gaze. He huddled on the bed, shaking, his arms wrapped around his knees and his shoulders hunched in a poor attempt to protect himself from attack.

"Better," Damien said. He reached to touch the muzzle.

Leonard flinched, but he didn't try to escape. A whimper escaped his throat when Damien removed the muzzle.

"Would you like to get out of here, Mr. Snart?"

Leonard's only reaction to the question was to shake more violently. Tears continued to stream from his eyes.

Damien frowned.

"I'd wager someone's already tried tricking him with an offer like that," Malcolm said.

"So would I," Damien replied. " _Look_ at me, Mr. Snart." Leonard lifted his gaze, hesitantly, to meet Damien's. "I have a job for you, a very _important_ job. But you need to come with us to do it. Now I ask you again, do you want to get out of here?"

Leonard nodded.

"Good. But first..." Damien allowed his gaze to flick over Leonard's sores. "It looks like I'll have to do something about _those_ if you're to be of any use. I'd like you to sleep for a while."

Leonard whimpered again, and he jerked back from Damien's raised hand. But whatever Leonard's defense against the drugs might've been, it was no match for Damien's magic. Malcolm stepped forward quickly to catch the young man before he could topple off the bed.

"Um..." Malcolm shifted the young man in his arms as he considered his options. A fireman's carry would probably be the easiest way to deal with him, but was likely to exacerbate any injuries Leonard might have sustained besides the sores. Granted, if Damien _could_ heal him it shouldn't matter, but...

Eobard jerked his head at the door. "They left a gurney right outside," he said.

—FLASH SIDEWAYS: LEGION—

Malcolm squinted at the unexpected sunlight and rearranged his hood to protect his eyes. That place had been so dark inside he'd nearly forgotten it was the middle of the day.

"Don't everybody help all at once," he grumbled as he followed the other two and pushed the gurney towards Damien's private jet.

—FLASH SIDEWAYS: LEGION—

Leonard remained in the magically-induced coma for three days before Damien pronounced him fit to wander the safe house.

It took only one day more before he was _forced_ to wander; he refused to touch any food they put in front of him, even if he watched them taste it first, and following through on a threat to force-feed him only led to him vomiting it back up the moment their backs were turned. Only when he was permitted to prepare his own food did he show even a hint of an appetite, but his visible ribcage was evidence of just how much that appetite needed to improve.

He barely spoke to any them, always giving short and quiet answers when he was addressed directly, but he never initiated conversation. And he flinched every time one of them so much as looked in his direction. Eobard's tendency to interrogate him, and the speedster's irritation when Leonard couldn't give the answers he wanted, didn't help matters.

"Let me get this straight," Eobard growled. "You have an eidetic memory. But you still don't have a _clue_ why you ended up in that place?"

Leonard hunched down more and more with every word, and he shook his head without making a sound. He'd been in the safe house for nearly three weeks now, and they had just stepped in briefly so Damien could reinforce the magic over him... magic that, from the Legion's perspective, had first been cast only three days ago. And Damien had still given no hint of what he wanted with the young man.

"Would you just drop it already?" Malcolm snapped. What was Eobard's problem, anyway? He'd had some weird obsession ever since Damien had mentioned that the kid— _Kid? He's nearly_ my _age_ , he corrected himself—had this so-called perfect memory. "Have you forgotten he's supposed to be _recovering_ from that? It doesn't help for you to keep harping on it all the time."

Eobard scowled.

"Can you blame him?" Damien asked before the speedster could think of a retort. "You speedsters... so impatient. You think everything has to move at your pace. But I'd want to block it out, too, if _my_ best friend left me to rot in that place."

"Mick?" Leonard's voice sounded like a croak rather than his usual whispers.

Malcolm stared at him; this was the first time the young man had spoken—the first he'd uttered a single word—without one of them addressing him directly.

Damien's eyes were wide. "Oh, dear," he said. "I didn't... did I say that out loud?"

"What did you say about Mick?" Leonard asked.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Snart," Damien said. "I didn't mean to _upset_ you."

" _What did you say about Mick?_ " Leonard asked again, his voice rising an octave as he began to panic.

"Mr. Snart, _please_ ," Damien said. "You're still unwell; you _need_ to calm down. You need to rest."

"But... but you said..."

" _Sleep_ ," Damien ordered. Leonard flinched away from the upraised hand, but once again, Malcolm was scrambling to catch the younger man before he fell.

—FLASH SIDEWAYS: LEGION—

"I can't _believe_ we're wasting so much time on this sniveling coward," Eobard said.

"Mr. Thawne, you didn't want to be in that place for a few minutes... _with_ my magic to protect you," Damien said with entirely too much patience. "How well do you think you'd cope after being trapped there for a few years?"

"Uh..."

"No, Mr. Snart is adept at quick recoveries," Damien continued. "Well, 'quick' being a relative term given that particular trauma. Once he has accepted that _we_ have rescued him from that place, he will have no difficulty contributing to our little fellowship."

"Then we can finally find out what he did with... whatever he helped the League steal from you?" Malcolm guessed.

Damien frowned for a moment. Then he smiled. "I'm sorry, Mr. Merlyn... I thought you understood. Mr. Snart didn't _steal_ my property, he _is_ my property."

Malcolm's mouth dropped open. "I'm sorry, _what_?" he managed to say.

"Has been ever since I arranged for his father to get out of prison," Damien explained, "after the idiot stole that ridiculous emerald. Him and his sister both, but she hasn't proven to be nearly as interesting."

Malcolm shook his head. "No. No, no, no, I am _not_ working with... with someone who belongs in that place."

Damien merely lifted one eyebrow. "If that's really how you feel, I suppose I can allow you to say your final farewells to Tommy."

Malcolm felt a chill go down his spine.

"He doesn't belong there, anyway," Eobard said. "Not if what Darkh said about him having an eidetic memory is true. Sensitive to changes in the timeline, right?" Damien nodded.

Malcolm shook his head. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

Eobard smirked. "You got someone like me changing history, someone like _him_ is still going to remember the original timeline." He shrugged. "In theory, anyway. Nobody _really_ knows how someone like that would be affected. But if it's true... well, with nobody to know what he's going through, those memories are going to look an awful lot like hallucinations. He probably got stuck in there because nobody knew what else to do with him."

" _That's_ why you've been so fixated on him," Malcolm realized. "You're trying to figure out if those theories are true?"

Eobard nodded. "And that'd be a lot easier if I had any idea what landed him in there in the first place."

"Don't forget, Mr. Snart belongs to _me_ ," Damien said. "Once I am done with him, you may study him to your heart's content. But until then, you will not do _anything_ to him that interferes with my plans, is that understood?"

Eobard shivered and nodded again.

"So... What do we do when Mr. 'eidetic memory' finally remembers what happened and figures out you lied to him?" Malcolm asked. "About his friend leaving him there, I mean?"

"Oh, that's the beauty of it," Damien replied. "I _didn't_ lie to him. Stretched the truth, certainly, but I didn't say anything that wasn't already technically true. See, Mr. Rory _did_ leave him there... not willingly, but Mr. Snart doesn't need to know that. That's what I love about manipulating people like him; he's so suspicious, so willing to believe that even the people he _should_ trust are prepared to betray him the first chance they get... well, all I did was reinforce that suspicion."

"I'm surprised you didn't try to convince him his sister was in on it," Eobard muttered.

"Baby steps, Mr. Thawne, baby steps. He needs to be ready to believe it."

* * *

 **Timing:  
From Len's perspective, this takes place mid-"What Could Have Been," a prequel fic to Flash Sideways.  
From the Legion's perspective, this takes place during or after Season 2 of Legends of Tomorrow.  
From the Legends' perspective, this takes place during my fic "League of MacGuffins," the sequel to "Majummed."**

 **Linked fics:  
Why Len is in "that place" is hinted at in Flash Sideways, and will be explained in greater detail in the prequel fic What Could Have Been. (Where "that place" even is will also be given in WCHB.)**  
 **Parts of this chapter, albeit told from Len's perspective, may also be recreated in WCHB. Depends on how well I can give that perspective given his current mental condition.**  
 **Mick Rory et al's appearance in "that place" was _supposed_ to be given in League of MacGuffins. Chapter two of this very fic changes this point, thanks to Len deciding mid-draft that his presence in chapter two is at a different stage of the same timeline instead of an alternate timeline. So now his presence in "that place" is due to him paying a visit in chapter two.  
Why Mick didn't do anything to rescue Len is given in Flash Sideways, as the team knows (by that point in either story) that the consequences of changing Len's personal history could be far more dangerous than the very thing they're trying to rescue him from. (He is, however, responsible for the doctor looking like he lost a fight with a meat grinder.)  
That nonsense about Len "belonging" to Damien was given (via a nightmare from _Lewis'_ perspective) in Confessions.  
**

 **Oh, and those restraints? I have it that Len isn't exactly shy about fighting dirty if he's desperate, so he's probably bitten several of the employees before they decided to put a muzzle on him (scratched, too, thus the cuffs vaguely resembling boxing mitts). Everything else is just the fact that he fights them pretty much any time he's given enough slack to do so, which is why he'd been allowed to develop some nasty bedsores.**

 **Next chapter, we have what was originally meant to be a different version of Len: a Flashpoint-resurrected Leonard Snart in a timeline where the Legends don't remember him being part of their team, but thanks to his eidetic memory (as per the Flash Sideways theory), Len _does_.  
Instead of being from an alternate timeline, however, he decided that the next chapter merely takes place at a later stage of the _same_ timeline as chapter one... the Flashpoint resurrection and changes in memory still hold true.  
**

 **Also I have no clue why Len is resistant to the sedatives. I had a reason for it, but I don't remember what that reason was (it wasn't to pile cruelty on top of cruelty, though adding the curare certainly did that); it was something to do with my version of his background, an actual _defensive_ mechanism.**  
 **And since I have plot-relevant reasons in other fics that certain drugs _have_ to work on him, I'm even more confused...  
**


	2. Surrender

**In which changes in history lead to Leonard Snart being under Darkh's control for well more than a decade instead of working with Mick, meeting the Flash, or joining the Legends.  
Thanks to his eidetic memory, Len still remembers the timelines in which he'd done all these things, but he must find a way to cope with the fact that the Legends do not share his memories.  
**

 **AU because the entire chapter depends on the Legends having eventually lost their memories of his time with them.**

 **OOC is Serious Business... this time for more reasons than just "the plot demands it". For one, I wanted to get this up _before_ Len officially rejoins the show (I'm curious how close my version of events would be to canon-or more likely, not close at all); for another, thanks to my work schedule I haven't even caught up on the show ****(as proof, I offer up the fact that Stargirl and Commander Steel are part of the "regular team" in my version; seriously, I have no idea why I thought they were traveling with the Legends) so all I have is bits and pieces of random scenes to tell me how even the Justice Society would behave.  
But like I said, AU.** ** **  
**This is a random fic; this means it is only meant to explore only a very small element of what may be a much larger story elsewhere, or it has nothing to do with anything else... or both. Certain details will be explained in other fics where relevant.**

 **All characters copyright to DC, CW, etc.**

* * *

 _Damn it!_ Leonard had finally gotten away from his so-called "team" long enough to talk to Rip's crew, but naturally they didn't trust him. And why would they? They didn't remember the other timeline like he did, didn't know what he knew.

And naturally, he'd ended up in a firefight— _again_ —with the heroes.

He was surrounded. The idiot Ray, Firestorm, a few people he didn't recognize from those other memories but whom Damien had forced him to fight many times in _this_ timeline... Nearly everyone he remembered from the team, in one timeline or the other, was there, watching him with suspicion, wary and prepared to strike the instant he tried to move. Only Kendra, Carter, and Rip were missing.

And Mick, his best friend _Mick_ , who had nearly always stood up for him through thick and thin... Mick was pointing that heat gun right in his face. Leonard considered his cold gun—he didn't want to attack his friend, but the two weapons interfering with each other might at least provide a distraction if he needed to escape—but he quickly dismissed the idea. He dropped his gun and put his hands up.

"Um..." Ray was the only one who dropped his guard. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I _think_ I'm surrendering," Leonard replied. He bit his tongue before he could say anything that would get him into trouble.

 _More_ trouble.

Sara tightened her grip on her staff. "What, are you scared without your pals around to protect you?"

Leonard sighed. He couldn't tell them the truth; not yet. He was sure they'd never believe him. Hell, he wasn't entirely sure he believed it himself. But maybe... "Tell Captain Hunter I have an eidetic memory," he said. "Tell him... tell him the theories are true."

"Captain Hunter's been missing for a while now," Ray said.

"Idiot," Mick grumbled. "You're telling the enemy _that_?"

"Whoops."

"Then tell _Gideon_ ," Leonard insisted. "But if you don't mind, my arms are getting tired, so if you could please either accept my surrender, or..." he had a sudden flash, a memory of what was left of the Pilgrim, and he swallowed. "Or kill me..." he finished in a whisper.

Sara stepped back to activate her comm and consult with the AI. The rest of the team continued to aim at Leonard.

The seconds dragged on as Sara argued with Gideon. He was gambling, hoping that what he'd remembered was a true memory and not the hallucinations Damin insisted he suffered from. He was hoping that the heroes wouldn't attack before Gideon approved, before they learned _why_ he was surrendering.

He was hoping they wouldn't simply get too impatient. Investigating his corpse wouldn't give them those answers, but they didn't know that and they might consider it an option.

He was hoping— _praying_ , desperately—he could get the team behind him before Damien found out he was doing. With or without their alliance, it was only a matter of time before the Legion caught him, and he'd have to face whatever punishment that man could imagine.

And Damien could be very imaginative.

Finally Sara stepped forward again. "Gideon wants to talk to him," she said.

Mick nodded and walked around behind Leonard.

Leonard had a good idea what was coming next, and he trembled with the effort to stand his ground, to keep from making a single move in his own defense. He told himself the shaking was just from that physical effort, that and from keeping his hands in the air for so long. If it had _only_ been the trembling, he might even have fooled himself, but with the pounding heart and the feeling that something was crushing his chest? No, he had no trouble recognizing an oncoming panic attack.

Mick—Leonard reviewed what he could distinguish as being from _this_ timeline—Mick had been with him during some of these attacks before. Back before _that_ heist, before history had changed around him so drastically. Even after all this time, he might be able to recognize the symptoms. But the rest of the crew...?

Leonard started shaking harder. Oh, that was just _wonderful_... he was panicking about having a panic attack.

He didn't dare make a sound for fear he might start laughing hysterically.

Something smashed into the back of his head before he could work himself up too much. Everything went bright white... then mercifully pitch black.

—FLASH SIDEWAYS: LEGION—

Leonard opened his eyes and tried to sit up, but he was caught up short by the restraints holding him down. He turned his head to look around... and immediately regretted moving at all.

"Ow," he said, before he could stop himself. The back of his head was still tender where Mick had hit him, and there was simply no way he could move to alleviate that pain.

"Are you feeling comfortable, Mr. Snart?" Gideon asked him.

"My head is killing me," he mumbled. He winced; even moving his mouth to speak sent waves of pain through his skull.

"My apologies, Mr. Snart. Between treating your concussion and suppressing your panic response, I did not think it wise to introduce too many drugs to your system, particularly considering how strong some of the doses must be to affect you."

"Huh." That would explain how calm he was, despite the very obvious trigger holding him down. He still _wanted_ to panic—Gideon had made it clear in the other timeline that the only drugs that could affect his mind in safe doses were those she would never agree to use, and some part of him was glad to know the same was true in this one—but none of the physical symptoms were there. It had taken a long time in that other timeline for Gideon to come up with something that could help him with his panic attacks; that the AI had something in _this_ timeline, the very first time he needed it, had to be a good sign... he hoped.

Even so...

"I wouldn't even _have_ a panic response if I wasn't strapped down," Leonard grumbled. "I'd hoped that at least Mick would have known better."

"Actually, Mr. Rory did argue against the restraints. Given your capacity for fast recovery, he believed that you would be safe enough in the holding cell. It is Mr. Henry Heywood who is not convinced, particularly after I informed him I could not simply drug you into compliance."

"Could not or would not?" Leonard asked.

"He asked that very same question," Gideon admitted.

—FLASH SIDEWAYS: LEGION—

Leonard's concussion was fully healed less than fifteen minutes after he had awoken, though Gideon told him she wanted to make sure there wouldn't be any lingering pain or other symptoms to worry about.

He detected a hint of annoyance in her tone at the continued use of the restraints.

Two hours later, Gideon finally announced to the crew that he was good to answer the team's questions, and Henry immediately hauled him off to lock him up in the holding cell.

It was another few hours yet—well after suppertime by his reckoning—before anyone "remembered" to feed him. Nate Heywood, Henry's grandson, approached the cell with a tray.

Leonard lifted one eyebrow at the tray's meager contents. "Bread and water?" he said. "One slice of bread, and... you actually found a drinking glass _that_ small?"

Nate flushed. "Sorry... the Commander says there's nothing else available and... um..."

"And one of the original crew showed him _exactly_ how to make something else."

Nate didn't answer.

Leonard shook his head at the offering. It would probably taste decent, and he had no doubt it was nutritious; Gideon simply wouldn't allow her patient to receive bad food as punishment. It was the lie, Henry's attempt to _use_ it as that punishment, that made it insulting. Even Damien had never stooped that low.

Leonard stood up, palmed the cell's controls, and the door opened. "Don't mind me, I know my way to the kitchen," he said, and walked off, leaving an open-mouthed Nate behind.

When Henry and his "Justice Society" found him a few minutes later, he was already relaxing back in the cell.

"What did you do?" Henry snarled.

Leonard set down the book he was reading, holding his place with one finger, and took a small bite of his steak.

"Well?"

Leonard chewed far more slowly than the bite needed, savoring it, moaning— _loudly_ —at the taste, before he finally swallowed. "I'm sorry, I always thought it was rude to talk with your mouth full," he said.

" _Well_?" Henry snapped.

"I asked Gideon for a steak," Leonard said. "Obviously. Why, did you need me to show you how it's done? You'd be amazed what she'll do if you say 'please.'" He shrugged and took another bite, chewing it just as slowly as the last one. It was an amazing steak, for all that it was artificial, much better than anything Damien had ever supplied him with. But it wasn't nearly as good as getting under Henry's skin.

"That's _not_ what I meant, and you know it," Henry replied. "The Legion sent you here... is that why? To trick the machine into thinking you're part of the crew, make it follow your orders?"

"He _is_ part of the crew," Gideon insisted, with far more than a mere _hint_ of annoyance in her tone.

"Oh, _that_ ," Leonard said. He rolled his eyes. "Right. I hacked into the system so I could have a decent meal. How very _ruthless_ of me."

Amaya snickered.

"Really," Leonard continued. "I know you're from the Stone Age, but I'd think even _you_ would know better than to expect your prisoner to live off of water and a tiny piece of bread. Or did you want me to faint before you're done interrogating me?"

Henry's face turned an unusual shade of red. He palmed the lock... but the door didn't open. " _Gideon_!"

"My patient is trying to finish his meal," Gideon explained. "If you _must_ disturb him, you may ask him your questions from outside of the cell."

Try as he might, Henry couldn't manage a single question. Leonard insisted on being very loud about his enjoyment of the steak, and after swallowing each bite claimed he hadn't heard a single one of Henry's questions. And whenever Henry tried to repeat himself, Leonard merely took another bite and started the process all over again.

"Okay, Snart, could you please stop with the noises already?" Sara managed to say after half the steak was gone. "This was funny at first, but now you're just getting on my nerves."

"Sorry," Leonard mumbled. He ate in silence after that.

"You stopped just because Miss Lance told you to?" Henry asked when Leonard was on his last bite. He glanced at Sara.

"Don't look at me," Sara muttered, "I didn't actually expect him to _listen_."

Leonard swallowed the last piece. "When a League-trained assassin no longer finds you amusing," he said, "the wise thing is usually to stop trying to amuse. I don't plan for that to be my last meal, so I will need that door open again at some point." He shrugged. "Anyway, she _did_ say please."

Henry shook his head. "Fine. First question, why did Darkh send you here?"

"He didn't," Leonard replied.

Henry glared at him.

"Okay, so why did _you_ come here?" Sara asked.

Henry scoffed. "Would you mind leaving this to _me_ , little girl?"

"Oh, god, you really _are_ from the Stone age," Leonard muttered. "But I'll make you a deal."

"I don't see how you're in any position to make deals," Henry said.

"Oh, this should be an easy one for you," Leonard said. "I'll answer anyone—any member of this crew—who asks the right questions. That's it, that's the whole deal."

"And what do you expect to get out of it?" Henry asked.

"Entertainment." Leonard shrugged. "Just seeing the look on your face when everyone, even the idiot Ray, comes up with better questions than you."

Henry sighed. "Fine, so why did you come here?"

"I don't believe that was your question," Leonard replied.

One of Henry's eyes began to twitch. "Miss Lance," he said through gritted teeth. "Your question, if you please..."

"Why did you come here, Snart?" Sara asked. "You said Darkh didn't send you, so what do you want?"

"I'm here because I don't trust Darkh," Leonard replied. "Look, the man got me out of this... this horrible situation some time ago. Not out of any kindness—if I hadn't seen him with his family I'd have thought he wouldn't know what kindness even is—but because he wanted me to do something for him. But who's to say he won't just put me right back in there when he's done with me? Or worse... Thawne keeps looking at me like I'm some kind of lab rat, and Darkh's made it clear that if something happens to me, there won't be anyone to protect Lisa."

"What situation?" Mick asked. "When did he recruit you?"

"2002," Leonard replied. "I think you can guess what situation that was."

Mick winced.

"Maybe he can," Jefferson said, "but the rest of us can't. So what was the—"

"Jax... don't ask," Mick said. "Just don't. Please."

"Okay, fine," Amaya said. "But why us? We didn't _catch_ you, you came looking for us. Because we're the heroes? You think we can protect your sister from Darkh?"

Leonard shook his head. "I wish it were that simple. For all I know I could've based that decision on a hallucination; Darkh certainly seems to think I have them a lot."

Henry snorted. "Well, that's just wonderful," he muttered. "So which insane asylum did you escape from?"

Leonard flinched. He knew Henry was being sarcastic, but the comment had hit far too close to the mark for his liking.

"Leave it, Steel," Mick warned. "I don't want to hear another word like that, do you understand?" He didn't make a move for his gun. He didn't have to; the look on his face was enough to make Henry step back.

The rest of the team watched this exchange with various looks of confusion.

"You said you have an eidetic memory," Nate said. "That was the message you wanted us to give to this Captain Hunter... to Gideon."

Ray nodded in agreement. "You seemed pretty confident that would mean something to them."

" _That's_ why I'm here," Leonard said. "These... these hallucinations Darkh says I have? I think I can remember other timelines."

"So can the rest of us," Martin said. "That seems to be par for the course for a time traveler."

"Really. So tell me, then, who held in the switch when the Oculus blew up?"

Ray frowned and scratched his head. "Well, that was..." His eyes went wide. "Oh, my god, that was _you_?"

"He's right," Stargirl said, "you _are_ an idiot if he can convince you that easily."

"No, no, that actually makes _sense_ ," Ray insisted. "I told everyone about the Oculus, but I didn't tell you about the failsafe. There was a device, to protect it from tampering... I had to hold in that switch to keep the failsafe from activating so I could destroy the Oculus. Only..."

"Only I knocked you out," Mick continued, "and held in the switch myself. Rip dragged your sorry ass out of there, Sara came in and..." He frowned. "I don't know. Someone knocked me out, too; the next thing I knew, Sara was dragging _my_ sorry ass out..." He looked at Sara.

"I dragged you out," Sara admitted, "but I'm not the one who knocked you out. And anyway, _someone_ had to stay behind." She shook her head. "Gideon keeps insisting that you're part of this team... Were you actually _there_ in this other timeline?"

"But then how can that still have happened?" Martin said. "If we successfully destroyed the Oculus, and the Time Masters' manipulation, because Mr. Snart sacrificed himself, but that timeline no longer exists..." He went pale. " _Sacrificed_ himself," he repeated. "If you remember it that clearly, then do you also remember...?"

"Dying?" Leonard supplied. "Not a very pleasant memory. Not the first one like it, either, though Carter and Kendra have me beat by a few hundred times. As to how it still happened in _this_ timeline..." He shrugged. "Hell if I know. You'd have to ask an expert."

"I believe I can answer that question," Gideon said. "Alterations in history have indeed resulted in gradually erasing Mr. Snart's contributions to the team and thus the crew's memory of him. However, the Temporal Zone and Vanishing Point are protected from such change. I believe that if you consider carefully, you'd realize that you _do_ remember him being on the team in these locations. It is only because of the cognitive dissonance between your memories in those locations and those memories that have changed, that you coped by convincing yourselves that he had never been present. Mr. Snart, however, as his eidetic memory prevents him from forgetting those other timelines, does not benefit from a similar coping mechanism and must be able to distinguish between the two timelines, a feat that would have been extremely difficult before he understood the nature of those memories."

Leonard snorted. "Difficult? Try _impossible_."

"You said that wasn't the first time you remembered dying," Jefferson said.

"It wasn't," Leonard replied. "It was the first time it was only my death, though. The other times... There was that fight with Vandal Savage, when he vaporized Central City with something Kendra called the Staff of Horus. I don't believe she or Carter remembered their own deaths in that fight, though."

"That is correct," Gideon said.

"Anyway, I wasn't anywhere near the city at the time, I saw it on the news, right before the blast hit Iron Heights. The worst part of that memory was knowing I couldn't do a damn thing to save Lisa or Mick. Or when Mardon—the Weather Wizard—tried to take out the city with his freak storms and that tidal wave." Leonard glanced at Mick, then looked down at the floor. "You and Lisa were crushed when a wall collapsed on top of you, then a couple of hours later I got a piece of rebar in my chest."

"How are we supposed to verify any of this?" Henry asked. "I'm sorry, but we only have Snart's word that he's telling the truth; if that timeline doesn't even exist anymore, then there's no way to confirm what he's saying."

"I could always contact the Flash," Gideon said. "Given that he was present at both moments, and it was his actions that changed those events, he would have no difficulty confirming Mr. Snart's word if you are not willing to accept mine."

"Not necessary," Mick said. "I believe you, Gideon. Snart, I'm not so sure about, but if you say he's telling the truth..." He shrugged. "Then I guess he's telling the truth. Even if it doesn't make sense."

"Why wouldn't it make sense?" Amaya asked.

"Because there's no way in hell Snart would give a damn what happened to me. Work with me, maybe, if he didn't think he had a choice. But he wouldn't care about me, not after..." Mick trailed off.

"After Tess?" Leonard suggested.

Mick's eyes went wide, and he reached for the gun at his hip.

"I'm not _sick_ ," Leonard immediately said, a habit developed in too many timelines. "Not like I was. Not like then. Apparently knowing that these are memories makes a difference."

"Snart... Len," Mick said. "I didn't want to hurt you. I _swear_ I didn't."

"I know," Leonard replied quietly. "You were protecting Lisa. Look, Darkh's been tying to convince me that it was your fault I ended up in that place. For a while I even believed him. But you don't grow up with a father like mine without learning to tell when someone's trying to manipulate you; I'm just ashamed it took me so long to figure it out."

"We had a _plan_ ," Mick insisted. "The doc said you were scheduled to be transferred to the prison, but when we went to get you, his boss had already sent you along to that other place. We _tried_ , Len."

"Mick... That doctor was working for Darkh." Leonard sighed. "He was working _there_. He was in charge of 'treating' me the whole time."

Mick's shocked expression twisted into one of rage. "Gideon, where is that lying son of a bitch? I need to kill him—no, I need to _destroy_ him!"

"I'm afraid that will not be possible," Gideon said. "He and two of the nurses were found dead in Mr. Snart's... er, room, shortly after Mr. Snart had vanished from the premises. I believe that was the Legion's doing. The doctor had a hole in his chest, consistent with one of Mr. Thawne's favored attacks, while the two nurses had each been killed with arrows."

Leonard nodded. "As soon as Darkh recruited me, he had no more use for any of them."

"Damn it," Mick grumbled. "And going back and killing him _sooner_ would..." He glanced at Leonard.

"Would alter Mr. Snart's history further," Gideon finished. "The specific change would be slight, but any continued alteration without a means to keep him stable will eventually destroy him. Temporal illness is not a pleasant way to die, as I believe Dr. Palmer remembers from when the Pilgrim had attacked his younger self. It would be safe, however, if you wanted to see this doctor and... I believe the phrase you would use is 'rough him up.'"

"What do you think, Len?" Mick asked. "Should I go pay him a visit?"

"If Gideon says it's safe, then do whatever you want," Leonard replied. "Just don't expect me to go with you."

"No, you can stay on the Waverider. I wouldn't want you to go anywhere near that place, ever again."

* * *

 **This chapter was originally meant to be totally unrelated to the previous one. Not that I didn't _want_ the two to work in tandem, just that I hadn't planned it that way; they were just two random ideas regarding Len's membership with the Legion.  
In that one, I had explored the idea that the Legion had recruited a much younger pre-Flash Len, and in this one I have a Flashpoint resurrected version of the character, _after_ the destruction of the Oculus Wellspring.  
Len, apparently, had other ideas, so the two are technically the same version of the character, just at vastly different points of his life. (How vastly? Well, it hasn't been mentioned outright in the fics, but my "flash sideways/eidetic memory" theory is that, while he can remember the entire timeline all at once-that'd be where the risk to his sanity comes in-he can't really begin to process the specific memories until whatever point of his life that memory would have been created... Meaning this version of Len has been under Darkh's control for well over a decade at this point.)  
**

 **Linked fics:**  
 **Mardon attacking the city (via Flash season 1 episode Out of Time) and the changed timeline (episode Rogue Time), and Len's ability to remember both, are the primary premise of the story Flash Sideways  
** **Vandal Savage similarly wiping out the city (Flash Season 2/Arrow Season 4 crossover Legends of Today/Yesterday) is a Flash Sideways sequel Legends of Another Day.**  
 **Len describes his memory of Tess briefly in the first chapter of Flash Sideways. The more detailed story-and how Lens' memories of her led to the circumstances in which Darkh found him in _this_ fic-is in the Flash Sideways prequel fic What Could Have Been.**  
 **And Mick wanting to pay that doctor a visit apparently contradicts the point I made in Recruiting Young Len. In _that_ chapter I'd mentioned that the reason the doctor looked like he'd lost a fight with a meat grinder is because Mick showed how very displeased he was in League of MacGuffins, a sequel to Majummed; in _this_ one... I'm guessing both visits aren't going to happen in the same timeline.**

 **And the issue I had with the drugs affecting him?  
My mother-the medical expert of the family-suggested that certain of his early childhood training (more on that when I write about Majummed) included building up a resistance to certain drugs that would otherwise incapacitate him. _Other_ drugs, however, would still affect him, because he would never be permitted to develop a resistance to them.  
**


	3. Betrayal

**In which Sara accepts that Len really does remember a timeline that the rest of the team has forgotten... and then Damien Darkh gets his hands on him.  
**

 **OOC is Serious Business.  
Recall, this story's version of Len has been under Darkh's control for well over a decade... and I do not use the term "control" lightly. So **me of his personality change is due to how different the timeline is from canon, and some is due to the nature of that control.  
****

 **Once again, I have no idea why I decided Commander Steel and Stargirl were traveling with the Legends throughout the season (I have yet to catch up on the season and only have bits and pieces to tell me what's really going on; hopefully I'll catch up real soon once I have my wireless HDMI so I can set it up to watch in my writing area). But since they were there in this particular story's first two chapters, they're sticking around for the rest of it... even when they're only mentioned in passing.  
**

 **This is a random fic; this means it is meant to explore only a very small element of what may be a much larger story elsewhere, or it has nothing to do with anything else... or both. Certain details will be explained in other fics where relevant.**

 **Swear warning: f-bomb dropped twice.**

 **All characters copyright to DC, CW, etc.**

* * *

Weeks passed since Leonard had surrendered to the Legends, and they had yet to let up on him about the timelines he remembered. None of them really believed him yet, not even with Gideon offering full footage of every moment he'd been on board. They no longer kept him locked up, but only because they _couldn't_... at least not with the Waverider's locks. A guard outside his quarters, and a simple pair of handcuffs and an escort any time he left the room, was something else entirely.

On the other hand, Henry quit treating him like an escaped lunatic. The man had accompanied Mick to see that doctor and had gotten a good look at just what Damien's scheming had done to him. Even Sara, whose own sister had been _murdered_ by Damien, kept looking at him like he was some fragile thing to be pitied.

Leonard wasn't completely sure that was an improvement. But therein lay the problem. Whatever Damien had been doing to him had kept him stable enough for the man's purpose and no more. Leonard wasn't sure if it was withdrawal from his magic, a safeguard against betrayal, or simply the years of temporal illness finally catching up to him faster than Gideon could treat him, but ever since he'd walked away from Damien's influence he'd _felt_ as fragile as spun glass, like he could shatter from the least bit of pressure.

And he was afraid of what the Legion would do to him when they caught him; he was _terrified_ that they might go after Lisa instead. He could never protect her from them, not unless he risked abducting her as a newborn like they'd done when the Pilgrim had hunted their younger selves... and risked altering his own history in the process. With Eobard's own abilities, the Legion could literally go after her any time they wanted.

Gideon reminded him many times that they were in the Temporal Zone, that the time he spent on board the ship had not passed on Earth. She tried to reassure him that the Legion would never know he was gone.

But he didn't know the extent of Damien's powers. None of them did. And he couldn't stay in the Temporal Zone forever.

Sara knocked on the door, interrupting his thoughts. "So, this other timeline," she began.

Leonard sighed. "What about it?" He was too relieved by the interruption to feel much irritation, though he refused to guess which one of his memories she wanted to play Twenty Questions with.

"I was just curious... take the question however you like, but... when you were part of the team, were me and you ever..." She cleared her throat. "Um... me and you?"

His relief vanished.

If there was anything in this timeline that had hurt as much as losing Mick's friendship, it was this... losing _Sara_. Not that she'd ever really been his to lose, but how was he supposed to answer a question like that? Knowing that neither of them were the same people they'd been in that timeline...

"No, we weren't," he finally said. That was it; that was the only honest answer he could give. All the answer he _should_ give. But his mouth kept moving without his permission. "There was that one time you thought I was a convenient way to burn off some excess energy," he said before he could stop himself, "but Mick interrupted us before anything happened."

"That's _not_ what I meant," Sara growled. "You know what? Never mind. I don't know why I even asked." She turned around and stalked towards the door.

Leonard watched her walk away. "I wanted us to be," he said quietly before she'd left. He wasn't sure she heard, wasn't sure he _wanted_ her to hear, but when she turned again to look at him, he continued. "There were times I thought... I wondered if maybe you felt the same way. But I never got a chance to find out."

"Because you stayed behind?" Sara guessed.

Leonard nodded. "You kissed me goodbye. I know, it probably didn't mean anything to you—to that version of you—just one last kindness before I—mmf!"

He recoiled when Sara pressed her lips against his, but there was no room for him to back away. It wasn't the kiss itself that bothered him, but the fact that it was completely unexpected and unasked for. The fact that he was still handcuffed to the wall didn't make him any more comfortable.

But when she noticed his hesitation and began to pull away—this version of Sara didn't know how he felt about being touched, after all, or _why_ —he forced down his panic and did the one thing he hadn't been able to do in that other timeline; he reached his free hand around her head and pulled her in for a deeper kiss.

Sara only broke off the kiss long enough to remove the handcuffs so he could use both hands.

—FLASH SIDEWAYS: LEGION—

"My Canary," Leonard murmured, quietly, so as not to disturb the woman sleeping in his arms. He looked around the room at the mess they'd made—clothing scattered wherever it landed, the lubricant Gideon had supplied tipped over and half of it on the floor, the blankets tangled around their legs—and he smiled.

" _My_ Canary," he said again.

This didn't change anything. He was still a prisoner, still desperate for a way to escape from Damien's influence.

But it might be a start. Maybe he could trust Sara, trust the Legends, to protect him...

He sighed. "Thawne's right," he muttered. "I _am_ a coward." He climbed out of the bed, still careful not to disturb the trained assassin, and began digging through the mess for his clothes.

He made it to the jump ship without meeting anyone.

"What are you doing?" Gideon asked en route to Earth.

"With any luck," he replied, "I'm solving a problem."

"You are still unwell," Gideon protested. "I cannot help you if you leave."

Leonard shook his head. "I have to do this, Gideon. I'm sorry."

The jump ship landed only a few minutes after the Legends had taken him prisoner—Leonard could hear them arguing in the distance—and he exited without trouble. He stretched for the controls to make the jump ship return to the Waverider without him, and walked away. "They can't know what I'm doing," he said before the door shut behind him.

But as soon as the jump ship was out of sight, Leonard's strength vanished and he collapsed to the ground. Whatever was happening to him—Damien's magic, the temporal illness, or anything else—was getting worse without the Waverider's protection. That damn lassitude hit him, hit him _hard_. Even breathing took more energy than he could find, and the adrenaline rush at realizing he might die before he could get back to the Legion wasn't enough.

He was barely conscious when the red lightning arrived.

"You stupid son of a bitch," he dimly heard Eobard muttering. "You should be grateful we still have a use for you."

—FLASH SIDEWAYS: LEGION—

Leonard woke with a start, and immediately wished he could go back to sleep. He was too tired to care that he was in a bed instead of the ground outside, _almost_ too tired to care how he'd gotten there. And he couldn't seem to stop shaking.

He couldn't decide if the shaking was good or bad. On the one hand, he had to have regained some of his energy to be able to shake so violently; on the other, there was the worry about _how_ he'd regained it.

"How long has it been?" he heard Damien asking.

Leonard opened his mouth to answer, but Malcolm spoke up before he could convince his brain to function.

"At least three weeks according to Thawne."

 _Three... oh shit_. Of course that damn speedster would have a way to tell how long he'd been gone.

Where was Eobard, anyway? It wasn't like him not to gloat over a chance to "study" Leonard's symptoms.

Damien sat down on the bed and reached out a single hand. Leonard tried to squirm away from the man's touch, but Damien only felt his forehead. "Hmm... fever's back down, at least." He sighed. "What were you thinking? Three weeks without my magic to keep you stable? You would have died if we hadn't found that distress beacon."

Distress beacon?

Why _had_ he left? He hadn't forgotten the reason, but he was so tired... he couldn't seem to think straight. "I... I remembered something," he managed to say. "Another... timeline."

" _Remembered_?" Damien scoffed. "You mean you were having hallucinations again."

Leonard shifted uncomfortably under the man's gaze, but he couldn't quite muster up the strength to dislodge that hand.

Damien shook his head. "How many times do I have to say it? You need to _tell_ me when this happens; I can't cure you if you won't let me help."

"I'm sorry," Leonard mumbled. "I... I really thought I was getting better. I didn't want to make you keep wasting your time on me."

"But you're fine with me wasting my _magic_ on you," Damien snapped. "Never mind. What was this one about? The hallucination; what did you see? Was it Tess, again? I know you tend to see her a lot."

"No..." Leonard frowned. His mind was so fuzzy; what _had_ he seen? Something about Mick... "The Legends," he finally said. "I remembered— _hallucinated_ ," he corrected himself, even though the word still felt so wrong, "that I was still friends with Mick, and we had joined their team together."

Malcolm's eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

"Did you, now," Damien murmured. "I want you to think about this very carefully, Mr. Snart. I want you to be very, very honest with me. Did you, even for one moment, did you consider _betraying_ me over this hallucination? Even after what Mr. Rory had done to you?"

" _No_! No, I could never... Darkh, you got me out of that place, kept my father from hurting me and—" Leonard hesitated. _And_? There was an _and_ , wasn't there? Or was she another hallucination? "But I thought... We already know people's memories change when history changes. I'd thought if there was even a _chance_ I could convince them that I believed what I'd seen, I might be able to get close to them. That it might be useful for us to have someone on the inside."

"Did it work?" Malcolm asked.

"It was starting to," Leonard replied. "They... they weren't ready to _trust_ me, exactly, they kept me locked up the whole time. But three of them—Ray, and Mick, and Sara—they believed that _I_ believed these hallucinations."

" _Sara_?" Malcolm echoed. "Sara Lance? Mick and Ray I could understand. But I thought Sara would be smarter than that."

"So did I," Leonard admitted. "But that's how I got away. I had her so convinced I was heartbroken over losing some relationship with her in this other 'timeline,' that she let me loose so we could fuck when she was supposed to be guarding me." Something about that statement sounded very wrong, but _what_? "I snuck out of there after she fell asleep."

Malcolm frowned.

"If I hadn't started getting sick again... Maybe I could've stuck around, worked on her longer. I'm sorry, Darkh, I swear I thought I could do it on my own."

"You were only trying to help," Damien murmured. He removed his hand. "Come with me."

"Please, Darkh, I just want to sleep." That lassitude hit him again. It was a struggle just to keep his eyes open.

"In just a moment," Damien replied. "But there's something you need to see."

—FLASH SIDEWAYS: LEGION—

Leonard leaned into Malcolm's body; he somehow managed to stay on his feet, but he was much too tired to keep his balance without the other man's support. It always felt odd, though, letting Malcolm help him like this, like it should be someone else in his place...

They followed Damien through the safe house until they reached Eobard's make-shift lab. Leonard shivered as they passed through the door. He _hated_ this room; it reminded him far too much of that so-called hospital where the Legion had found him. And Eobard's tendency to change things around at a moment's notice, using his super-speed to rearrange the lab in literally the span of a heartbeat, always made it difficult for Leonard to analyze these visits.

This time, for instance, there was what appeared to be a freshly constructed cage sitting right in the middle of the floor.

Leonard's eyes were drawn to the figure imprisoned within. "Sara?"

"Miss Lance wasn't quite as convinced by your story as you seem to think," Damien said. "Mr. Thawne caught her following you and brought her here."

Sara Lance looked at the other three members of the Legion with a mixture of annoyance and disgust. But when she looked at Leonard, there was only undisguised hatred in her eyes.

"If you really want to be my inside man," Damien said, "I think I can arrange that. But you _really_ need to learn to tell when people are using you. Perhaps reacquainting yourself with your 'lover' will teach you that lesson better than I can."

Sara waited until the rest of the Legion had left the room before she spoke. "I hope it was better than a goodbye kiss," she snarled.

Leonard swallowed. He could understand why she would hate him... what he _didn't_ understand was why that hatred felt like a knife twisting in his heart. "It wasn't bad," he admitted to cover up his confusion. "An unexpected perk to my job."

"To _my_ job, you mean," Sara replied. "Tricking you into leading me here... I'm actually disappointed at how easy that was." She glanced around the lab. "I know this isn't your headquarters, just another safe house, but when my team follows my signal I'm sure we'll find something of use." She looked back at him. "You better be long gone before they get here, Snart. Because you're dead the next time I get my hands on you."

Leonard shivered.

"I just want to know one thing," Sara continued. "I don't care how you tricked everyone else. Mick and Ray are idiots, anyway. But what you told us... was _any_ of it true? That part about protecting Lisa from Darkh... is she working for him? Was that just another lie?"

Leonard frowned. He considered the question very carefully before answering, but no matter how many times he went over it he couldn't make any sense of it.

He finally gave up and shook his head. "Who the fuck is Lisa?"

* * *

 **Ah, once again a chapter that ends up being longer than anticipated.  
**

 **No, Sara didn't actually "use" Len like that; rather, she's hurt at his apparent betrayal and is trying to hurt him back. It works, but he genuinely doesn't know why.  
**

 **Updates:  
Judging from some of the reviews I've gotten, apparently Len's internal monologues and/or narrative were not as obvious as I'd intended. (Okay, so there were only two reviews so far that mentioned an issue with Len's personality flip-one on this site and one on AO3. Still... two reviewers who were confused by the issue is two too many.)  
Anyway, to clarify:  
Len did not betray the Legends. He is not playing them.  
What he told them while he was on the ship, outside of Darkh's influence, is completely true.  
When he left the Legends again, he did so because he'd realized that asking them to protect him from Darkh was maybe not the best idea. The way he figured it, worst case scenario they now knew that he owed no allegiance to the Legion and can at least try to protect Lisa while he fights Darkh from the inside. Best case, maybe he can act as a double agent, spying on the Legion for the heroes' benefit (in fact, the original version of this fic had him walking away precisely for the purpose of playing double agent and Sara misunderstanding his intention; that was before I remembered what Darkh could do with his magic).  
However, he _does not know the extent of Darkh's powers_. And Darkh has been controlling him for a very long time.  
The result? His temporal illness has made him physically weak, unable to defend himself from Darkh's magic. Thus Len's worry about how he'd gotten his energy back.  
And while Darkh can clearly restore Len's energy while the thief is unconscious (be pretty useless as a "healing" technique otherwise), he apparently needs to be physically touching Len _while_ Len is conscious in order to reinforce that control. Thus Len's instinctive attempt to avoid letting Darkh touch him.  
But once that control is put back in place... Well, Len still _instinctively_ knows that there is something seriously wrong with the situation, but between that control and his temporal illness, he is at best simply too fuzzy-headed to realize anything more definite than "something's wrong." At worst... Darkh is using Len's "double agent" plan _against_ him, manipulating him just enough to think that he is truly loyal to the Legion, loyal enough to believe that he had _clearly_ come up with such a plan to use against the heroes.  
And no, he really does not remember who Lisa is. The thing to worry about is _why_... he's got an eidetic memory, and she _isn't_ from another timeline (not that it would matter if she was, given that the plot depends on him remembering other timelines), and he clearly remembered her when he was outside of Darkh's influence, but now that he's back under Darkh's control (and again, I do not use the term "control" lightly) he can't even remember her as someone he attempted to "trick" the Legends with...  
**


	4. Best Laid Plans

**In which Damien Darkh thinks my planned ending isn't good enough and he decides to "fix" it. (Thanks. A. _Lot_. :( )**

 ***ahem***

 **In which the Legends try to understand Leonard's recent betrayal and rescue their captured team member... and some members of the Legion are not thrilled with the way things have been going.**

 **OOC is Serious Business.** **  
Recall, this story's version of Len has been under Darkh's control for well over a decade... and I do not use the term "control" lightly. So **me of his personality change is due to how different the timeline is from canon, and some is due to the nature of that control.  
****

 **Once again, I have no idea why I decided Commander Steel and Stargirl were traveling with the Legends throughout the season. But thanks to Darkh's changed ending, I think this is no longer an issue.  
**

 **This is a random fic; this means it is meant to explore only a very small element of what may be a much larger story elsewhere, or it has nothing to do with anything else... or both. Certain details will be explained in other fics where relevant.  
Although thanks to Damien's new ending, it now relates (somewhat vaguely) to the Flash Sideways story-verse and is re-titled and re-described accordingly.  
**

 **All characters copyright to DC, CW, etc.**

* * *

Mick stared at the speaker. "Shit," he muttered. He hefted the half-empty bottle in his hand and considered the remaining liquid.

Nobody so much as twitched when the bottle smashed against a wall.

" _Shit_." Mick rubbed his scalp and shook his head. "I was starting to _remember_ that bastard again... I thought I had my friend back."

"I am sorry, Mr. Rory," Gideon said. "The 'bug' I planted was meant to help protect Mr. Snart _against_ the Legion's interference. But his brainwaves no longer appear to be in sync with the pattern I have on file, and until he returns to the Waverider's medical bay I will be unable to conduct a deeper analysis. I'm afraid I cannot understand how he could have changed his loyalties so easily."

"But it doesn't make any _sense_ ," Ray protested. "The only way we could've destroyed the Oculus..."

"That makes sense," Stargirl agreed. "This... this doesn't. The level of detail... he was starting to convince _me_ that those were true memories."

"Yeah, well, just because he remembers being part of our team," Mick said, "doesn't mean he wants to be part of it _now_."

" _No_ ," Jefferson said. "He was... scared..."

"Just proves he's a better actor than I knew," Mick replied. "Face it, he played us. We saw it coming, we all did; we just didn't want to accept it. All except for Steele."

"But that's not the part that doesn't make sense," Henry said. "Why doesn't he remember Lisa?"

"I don't understand," Martin said. "What does Lisa have to do with this?"

"She has _everything_ to do with it," Stargirl said. "According to Gideon, all of this happened because he can remember other timelines. Correct?"

"That is correct," Gideon said. "If he were not suffering from temporal illness the Legion would never have captured him so easily."

"And Mr. Rory," Stargirl continued, "would I be equally correct in assuming that Lisa existed in this timeline? _Before_ the Legion changed Snart's history?"

Mick nodded. "Yeah. She still exists. I... damn it, I never even told her he'd sacrificed himself. I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to tell her _this_."

"Right," Henry said. "So if his memory is that good, and not two hours ago he was terrified that the Legion would go after her, _why doesn't he remember her now_? What's changed?"

Mick's mouth dropped open.

Henry frowned. "Amaya, that protection spell you used on the rest of us..."

Amaya shook her head. "It won't work. That spell was meant to prevent Darkh from changing us. If Snart is already under his control then he's already changed; there won't be anything for me to protect." She looked around the room, and her gaze fell on one of the pieces of the Spear. "But if I could _free_ him from that control..."

Henry followed her gaze and grimaced. Finally he nodded.

—FLASH SIDEWAYS: LEGION—

Malcolm knocked on the door to the lab.

There was a crackle of lightning, and the door opened just enough to reveal Eobard's face. "What did you want?" the speedster asked.

"To talk," Malcolm replied. He gestured at the barely opened door. "May I?"

Another crackle and a rush of vertigo, and Eobard and Malcolm were both inside the lab, the door locked behind them.

"I repeat," Eobard said, his attention back on whatever he'd been studying before Malcolm approached. A genetic sample this time, if Malcolm remembered right. "What did you want?"

Malcolm glanced at Sara and shrugged before replying. "I guess I'm a little puzzled about our goals lately," he admitted. "I mean, when did you stop being in charge?"

"What are you talking about?" Eobard snapped. "I _am_ in charge."

"Oh." Malcolm let the silence drag on for a few seconds longer than necessary, knowing by now that the speedster would find the pause so much more meaningful—and so much more irritating—than, well, anyone who wasn't a speedster. "So you're okay with whatever Darkh's been doing to Snart? I mean, it's part of the plan?"

Eobard shrugged.

Of course. The only thing about Leonard that interested him was the young man's memory. Why _would_ he care about anything else?

Time for a new angle. "I mean, it just seems like ever since we recruited the kid, all we've ever focused on is his timeline. It'd be one thing if Darkh really _was_ trying to cure him so he could actually contribute to our group." Another quick glance proved Sara was listening closely... and as unobtrusively as only another League assassin could. "If Leon... uh, Snart is as good a thief as Darkh says, then I see no reason he _couldn't_ help us. No reason _before_ we changed his history. But with the way Darkh keeps trying to force those changes, I'm starting to think the Spear doesn't matter to him half as much as seeing how far he can push the kid."

Eobard growled. "Excuse me, Merlyn, _who_ is the expert in time travel here?"

"That's my point! Do _you_ know what Darkh is doing by screwing around so much with the kid's timeline? Because I sure as hell don't." Malcolm sighed. "I don't know, maybe it's my paranoia kicking in, that League instinct telling me I shouldn't trust a damn thing. But I just can't shake the feeling that whatever Darkh thinks he's doing by changing so much of Snart's history is going to end badly."

Badly for who, he refused to say. Let the speedster draw his own conclusions.

Eobard frowned. "You're right," he finally said. "You _are_ paranoid." But a hint of doubt crept into his tone. "Fine. I'll look into it."

—FLASH SIDEWAYS: LEGION—

It took nearly a week to complete the spell, and Amaya was exhausted.

She wanted to accompany the mission to ensure that her spell worked. But after they'd learned that the speedster could tell how long Leonard had been gone, the team had decided not to waste any more time than strictly necessary on this part of the mission; they'd agreed that staying in the Temporal Zone so Amaya could recover would offer no protection.

"It'll work," Stargirl insisted. "If anything will change him back, this will."

"We ready to go?" Mick said. He charged up his heat gun.

"What do you think you're doing?" Henry asked.

"Going to get my best friend back from those bastards," Mick replied.

Henry shook his head. "No, you're too close to this. Too close to _him_. I need you to stay behind to help protect Amaya while she recovers."

"Pretty sure she can do that without anyone's protection," Mick replied. "Besides, I gotta make sure Sara doesn't kill Len before we can fix him."

"And I need to make sure _you_ don't kill him first," Ray added.

Mick shrugged.

Henry sighed. "Very well. Anyone else care to join in at the last minute?" Nobody answered. "Dr. Palmer, would you do the honors?"

"Right." Ray cleared his throat and stepped up to the microphone. "Attention Legion of Doom," he said. "We'd like to discuss a trade."

Mick rolled his eyes.

—FLASH SIDEWAYS: LEGION—

Malcolm and Leonard walked forward, hauling Sara between them. However Damien had restrained her seemed to be holding, but Leonard knew it was only a matter of time before she was free...

And whatever Damien wanted with him, he didn't trust the Legion to protect him from her revenge for long.

Malcolm had wanted him to remain behind at the safe house, citing his illness as reason enough to stay out of what was liable to be a battle.

But Damien wouldn't hear of it. "I would think Ra's al Ghul's Horsemen would have a better read on a fellow assassin than that," he'd scolded. "She's too stubborn to show it, but Mr. Snart's betrayal broke her. Not completely, of course; she's too strong for that. But the rest of her team?" He shook his head. "Well, clearly Mr. Snart won't be able to infiltrate them, not with that bug they'd planted on him. But he won't need to after this."

"I bet he's getting real tired of being cooped up in there, too," Eobard added. He shrugged. "I can always speed him back to the safe house if it looks like there's a problem."

That was reason enough for Leonard to go. He didn't want to be alone with _any_ of them... not even Malcolm. And that meant he couldn't give any of them a reason to stay behind.

Finally they reached the place the two groups had agreed to meet.

"Déjà vu?" Malcolm said.

Leonard nodded. "Near where they abducted me," he said. If he listened closely, he could hear the team in the distance, arguing about that very capture.

Sara growled, her words muffled by the gag in her mouth, and she lunged in his direction.

Leonard yelped at the sudden motion. He released her and jerked away, nearly twisting an ankle in his haste to avoid her. He felt for his cold gun, and he didn't dare return to his position until he was sure Malcolm had a firm grip on her.

"Ah, there they are," Damien said. He watched as four members of the Legends approached. "Your teammate, safe and sound as promised. Well, relatively sound. I take it you have the item?"

Stargirl stepped forward, brandishing a piece of the spear. "As promised," she said.

Sara shook her head, but her protests, like her insults, were lost beneath the gag.

Malcolm took a step forward, pushing Sara in front of him. Leonard hesitated, then moved to join him.

"A moment," Damien said. "Only four? You, the commander, Mr. Rory and Dr. Palmer... where are the rest of your team?"

"I thought we agreed," Henry said. "There are four of you, so four of us would participate in the trade." He shrugged. "Mr. Rory couldn't believe how easily _that_ one had played him," he said with a jerk of his chin towards Leonard. "Said he wanted solid proof. The others wanted nothing to do with any of it."

"So _are_ we doing this?" Eobard asked. "Or would you rather I just take your piece of the spear? I haven't got all day."

"Sorry," Leonard muttered. He and Malcolm walked Sara up to a point somewhere in the middle between the two groups, and Mick and Stargirl moved to meet them.

The hurt on Mick's face twisted in Leonard's gut.

Malcolm, far more confident handling the other assassin than Leonard was, handed Sara over to Mick, which left Leonard free to receive the spear piece from Stargirl. The exchange completed, Malcolm walked back to rejoin his own team while Mick set about cutting through Sara's bindings.

Leonard didn't find retreat nearly as easy. He couldn't take even a single step.

His breaths came quickly, one painful gasp after another.

 _In through the nose..._

His chest tightened with every inhalation.

 _Hold for three..._

He was getting dizzy. Dizzier.

 _Out through the mouth..._

And far more terrifying than the physical sensations, he felt... distant. Separate from his body. Separate from _everything_. The cold gun in one hand, the spear piece in the other... neither of these felt familiar. They felt like they belonged to someone else. Like he was a stranger in his own body.

He tightened his grip, one hand on the spear and the other on his cold gun, desperate for anything that could ground him back in reality.

Mick bent to whisper something in Sara's ear, even as she struggled to get free of his grasp and go after Leonard.

 _Malcolm's been looking out for me. Whatever else the Legion wants, he's not going to oh god he's going to let me die._

Something pried his fingers loose from the spear.

Leonard shook his head. Whatever had happened, his panic attack was gone, and his head no longer felt so fuzzy.

But the reality was so much worse. _What have I done?_

"The Spear of Destiny is an amazing thing," Damien was saying. He hefted the piece to examine his prize. "If the entire spear can rewrite reality, can you imagine what even a small piece of it could do? Especially in the hands of someone who can do magic."

Mick's eyes snapped open wide, and he and the other Legends reached for their weapons.

Damien held up one hand, and everyone froze. "As I was saying. Mr. Thawne, did you acquire that drug I requested?"

Eobard didn't answer.

"Mr. Thawne?" Damien looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Oh, right." He twitched a finger, and Eobard was no longer frozen.

"Er, yes?" Eobard replied. He removed a small vial from a pocket and handed it to Damien. His hands shook as he did so.

Damien inspected the vial. "Vertigo, I believe it's called," he said. "Not the original kind, of course, taken only for pleasure. But a refined variety, famed for producing vivid nightmares." He opened the vial and dipped one tip of the spear into the liquid. "With my magic, I theorize that it could do so much more. Produce not just _any_ nightmare, but one from which the dreamer would never awaken." He frowned. "But of course, not everybody would be affected. Those whose time with the League, for instance," he added, gesturing at Sara with the spear, "or the so-called Time Masters," a gesture towards Mick, "might have granted them a superior resistance to such drugs. Or perhaps your 'heroes' have some other form of protection. But with the spear to enhance it... imagine the possibilities!"

He sighed. "But who to test it on? No sense wasting my power on all of you only to find out it doesn't work the way I hope. So who truly needs to know just how dangerous it is to get in my way? Oh, yes..." He whirled around and lashed out with the spear. "The traitor in my midst."

Leonard remained frozen, unable to even cry out when the spear penetrated between his ribs.

"Did you really think you could fool me that easily?" Damien snarled. "That I couldn't tell when my control over you faded? That I couldn't see _every single moment_ you tried to betray me? I _own_ you, Mr. Snart, and I have played this game for longer than your _grandparents_ have been alive. But now your punishment will be of your own making... a nightmare of your own design. And that nightmare will only end when you are ready to give me your oath, is that understood? And when you do... when you give me that oath, Mr. Snart, you will submit to being bound by my magic, bound so thoroughly that no attempt to change history can ever rob me of your loyalty."

—FLASH SIDEWAYS: LEGION—

 _Undisclosed location, circa December 2002  
_

Damien strode confidently down the darkened halls. His piece of the spear was gone—or rather, he had not yet acquired it—and his memories of that timeline were fading fast. But the small boost it had given to his power lingered for a time, and right now he knew he was the most dangerous thing in this hellish place.

His companions had no such reassurance. Even the time-traveling speedster had no awareness of the other timeline. The two skulked along, watching, wary for anyone—or anything—prepared to jump out at them. Neither of them spoke, neither willing to make their presence known to whatever called this place a home.

Until Malcolm broke the silence. The assassin yelped and immediately loosed an arrow at whatever had caused his fright.

Eobard echoed that yelp and dodged away from the arrow aimed at him, allowing it to speed right at Damien.

Damien held up a single hand, and the arrow disintegrated before it had completely left the bow.

" _Damn_ it, Thawne!" Malcolm snarled. "Either quit vibrating or get the hell off me!"

"I can't _help_ it," Eobard whined. "This place gives me the creeps!"

"I always thought it was an urban legend," Malcolm admitted. "Even in my worst nightmares, even after Nanda Parbat, I could never imagine... What are we even doing here, Darkh?"

"We are here to collect something that belongs to me," Damien replied.

"His sanity?" Eobard muttered.

"You won't find _that_ in this place," Malcolm replied.

"I don't think you could find it _any_ place," Eobard said.

"Cute," Damien said. "But no. My property was stolen from me twenty years ago, and this is my best chance to get it back."

"So why don't I just go back twenty years and collect your property _then_?" Eobard asked. "For all we know, I might be the one who stole it from you; sure beats wandering around here..."

But Damien shook his head. "I'm afraid that wouldn't be a good idea," he said. "The League was responsible for this theft, you see, and I've learned that this property is particularly sensitive to changes in the timeline." He smirked. "Of course, that means we'll have to be careful so we don't break anything."

A few seconds passed—what Damien knew must feel like an age to the speedster—before the other two reacted. "So what _are_ we looking for?" the assassin finally asked.

"Not what," Damien corrected. " _Who_." He ignored the panicked looks the other two gave him. "Ah, here we are," he said, finally stopping in front of a locked door. The door clicked open, and he hesitated. "Would you gentleman mind waiting outside for a moment?"

Malcolm and Eobard traded frightened looks, but they waited as requested.

Damien stepped into the room and the door clicked shut behind him.

Barely a second had passed before he heard the distinct crackle of Eobard's speed, the _twang_ of Malcolm's bow, and the _thump! thump! thump!_ of bodies hitting the floor.

Damien smiled down at the man he found inside, muzzled and chained to a sad excuse for a bed. "Let's try this again, shall we?"

Leonard stared back up at him, shaking. He whimpered as Damien approached.

* * *

 **Darkh! What do you think you're doing to my story? There was _supposed_ to be a big battle, the team realizing that Len was really under your control and trying to rescue him, trying to find a way to rid Len of the Vertigo- and magically-enhanced nightmare (only to discover Darkh had lied and had actually used Votura on Len), Merlyn and the Reverse Flash were _both_ supposed to realize that you'd gone too far (admittedly this was back when I thought of Darkh as the "leader" of the group), but _no_...  
I mean, seriously, you decided to up and rewrite Len's history, then what was the point of even _using_ the Vertigo?**

 **Okay, readers, it's official: Darkh has just taken personal responsibility for every second of hell I've been putting Len through in these fics. And probably a good deal of the canonical crap.  
**

 **Anyway, this fic is done (was done Mar 19, but weather meant staying off the computer, and the apps for the various places I'm posting this are... not good for submitting work).  
What happens next... well, that depends on canon.  
Assume, for sake of tying the fic to canon, that "rewriting reality" most likely eliminated a goodly portion of the temporal illness. And hindered his ability to retain other timelines in general. And anything else that represents a major difference between how I'm writing Len and how his character (finally!) shows up again in-canon... unless of course canon coincidentally uses a similar plot point.  
**


End file.
